In three . . . two . . . one . . .

Hello! My name is Yoshik Fucklinovich, and I am coming to you live today from the home of Uccellina, where the minutes are ticking away until the midnight deadline for all Fuckling Contest entries. The tension is thick in the air here, as entrants scramble frantically to finish their projects and send them in.

With me here is Gawain DePounce. Mr. DePounce, do you have any comment on this contest? Mr. DePounce? Comment?

Mr. DePounce, please don’t bite me. Sir. Please.

Excuse me, Mr. DePounce, but that is not – hey – hey, stop! What are you – Auggh! No! Not the face! Bad cat! Bad!

Back to you in the studio, Uccellina.
_______________________

Thanks, Yoshik. This has been a brief reminder of the upcoming deadline for Fuckling Contest entries, which is midnight tonight.

Unless, of course, you get them to me by tomorrow afternoon. Say around three.

About

I write. I knit. I kvetch. Lately, I’ve been endeavoring to undermine the patriarchy while simultaneously making a sweater. If I succeed, I will nominate myself for the Guinness Book of World Records and then throw a party.
I can be e-mailed at ucc3llina at gmail dot com.